


Things I'll Never Know...

by ScribeOnTheSide



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Gay Male Character, Gratuitous Smut, I need a life, M/M, Slash, Smut, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 22:26:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7241254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeOnTheSide/pseuds/ScribeOnTheSide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quentin realizes how much he might never get a chance to know if he's thrown out of Brakebills.</p>
<p>Moment placed early in the first few episodes after a deep discussion where Eliot confesses to killing someone.  </p>
<p>Explicit enough but not too ridiculous.   A slight bit out of character at points but it was just the way I wanted it.  </p>
<p>Writing Exercise: Restrictions were it had to be three pages or under in Word, with the possibility of a sequel to continue the pointless smuttiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things I'll Never Know...

“I’m trying to tell you, you are not alone here. Funny little irony they don’t tell you…magic doesn’t come from talent. It comes from pain.” 

Eliot took a long pull on his cigarette to punctuate his statement, trying to keep hold of his composure. Something about the desperate crack in the young man’s voice called to his own deeply buried fear of not belonging, but he kept himself from reaching out. He wished Quentin hadn’t gotten under his skin. Eliot had played it cool but watching Quentin’s wide eyed wonder at the world that he was already tired of broke through his walls. Now it looked like he was right to be wary. He’d have to think of a way to keep Quentin at Brakebills.

Quentin looked at the tall man lounging on the patio, lazily flicking his ashes on the pavement. As Eliot trailed off from his last statement, Quentin caught a quick flash of pain on his face that disappeared as fast as it appeared. Not for the first time, he noticed how deeply dark Eliot’s eyes were and wondered what went on behind that carefully cultivated mask. And now, he would never know. If he was kicked out of Brakebills, he’d never get to find out all of the secrets Eliot tried so hard to hide. He’d never know where Eliot really came from or why he hated that boy in front of the bus or what it would taste like to kiss him. He’d never know…unless…  
Quentin took the cigarette out of Eliot’s hand and crushed it underfoot. Taking the now free hand, he pulled Eliot out of his seat and towards the house. He could see the slight smirk on Eliot’s face, as if he was thinking something particularly scandalous but didn’t want to share. Quentin would have to do something about that look.

Once inside, with a quick glance to check for the others, he stopped and turned to face Eliot. Standing only a few inches away, Quentin reached up and hesitantly touched Eliot’s face, slowly tracing the outline of his jaw. The taller man lifted an eyebrow but stayed still, continuing to hold the other’s hand. Eliot waited for Quentin to make the first move, to set the boundaries, to say ‘yes’.

Leaning into him slightly, Quentin brushed his lips across the faint stubble on his chin. Eliot’s hands settled on Quentin’s hips, pulling him closer as Quentin took possession of his mouth, softly nipping at his bottom lip. Eliot’s breath caught momentarily, then sped up in response.  
“Q?” Eliot’s voice quavered slightly as he tried one more time to check on Quentin’s intent before letting his eyes close and his hand slide to the small of Quentin’s back, circling slowly.  
Quentin moved from his mouth,trailing kisses down the side of his neck until he nudging Eliot’s chin up into a pose of submission. Quentin liked the way it looked on Eliot.

With a bite just above the collarbone, Quentin gently but firmly pushed Eliot against the living room wall, sliding his hands down the front of his vest, undoing the buttons as he went. Tugging slightly, he freed Eliot’s shirt, slipping under the hem to run his fingertips along the firm ridges of his abdomen. Eliot inhaled sharply as Quentin returned to his mouth, less gentle, more demanding. Eliot’s low moans provided the only sound other than their fast, heavy breathing. Eliot felt Quentin give a slight smile against his lips at the sound while his hands continued to explore Eliot.  
Lightly scratching his nails down Eliot’s side, Quentin hooked his fingers into the other man’s belt loops, pulling their hips together. He could feel the effect he was having on Eliot and rubbed up against him for a minute or two, listening to the moans change in pitch.

His hands finding the front of Eliot’s belt, he undid both it and the jeans in one quick movement. Then Quentin attacked the buttons on Eliot’s shirt. Pressing him further back against the wall, Quentin began to work his way down Eliot’s body. First his mouth, then his ear-lobe, followed by licking and nipping down his neck, the skin turning pink from the absolutely wanted attention. Sliding Eliot’s shirt off his shoulders and to the floor, Quentin turned his attention to Eliot’s chest, slowly sliding down, down, down. 

Once he reached Eliot’s hips, Quentin returned to his mouth for one more, long, hard kiss as he put his hands on Eliot’s waistband and started slipping the jeans down. He wrapped his hand around Eliot’s hard center and whispered, low and husky, in his ear….  
“Say Please”  
A shiver ran down Eliot’s spine and a groan escaped his throat.  
“Oh god please, Q!”

His eyes were almost completely black as they met Quentin’s, pupils blown wide. Quentin slid his hand across Eliot a few more times before giving a mischievous smile and dropping to his knees, taking Eliot’s pants with him. 

As Quentin took him into his mouth, Eliot rocked his head back into the wall, arching towards the other man. His sounds became more and more guttural, his breathing ragged and rough. Quentin swirled his tongue around Eliot’s head, sliding up and down, setting a steady pace, while listening to a rapid stream of moans and barely intelligible phrases pouring from his mouth in what became a more and more pronounced twang. 

Eliot threw one arm above his head, grasping the frame of the doorway they were next to for balance. The other wound into Quentin’s hair, gently encouraging, while struggling not to thrust. Quentin flicked his tongue across the tip and increased the suction on his downward slides He knew Eliot was close by the shift to one word vulgarities. 

With one final “Fuck!”, Eliot shuttered to his end. As his final shiver passed, he sank to the ground next to Quentin, wrapping his long arms around him in a tight hug. Quentin straddled Eliot and gently kissed him, letting Eliot taste himself on his lips.  
Eliot ran his hands up under Quentin’s t-shirt, lifting it over his head and to the floor. Eliot cleared his throat.  
“So… what do you….”  
They both jumped at the sound of someone walking up the front steps. Scrambling to their feet, they hastily put on, pulled up, and rearranged, jumping onto the couch before Penny came into the living room.  
Penny wandered through, barely glancing at the two of them on his way to his room. After he left, Quentin turned to Eliot. He’d checked a few things off his “Things I’ll never know” list. How many more could he cross off?

“Ummm… you were saying?” Quentin stammered.

Eliot gave him a wicked smile.  
“I seem to have a couple of open hours in my schedule before we need to see a man about an anti-mind wipe spell. Ideas?”

“Upstairs?”

“Absolutely…”


End file.
